Tortillas and Business: The Cost of Not Producing What We Eat

In Mexico, talking about corn is talking about identity, sustenance, and family economy.  However, today, we face an undeniable fact: The country no longer produces enough corn to cover what it truly consumes. While many still cling to the idea of self-sufficiency, the reality is that half of the grain that feeds the country now comes from abroad. Mexico  is also entering one of the most critical cycles in its recent history. 

According to the Agricultural Markets Consulting Group (GCMA), national white corn  production has been falling steadily. In 2023, it reached 27 million tons, but by 2024, it dropped  to 23 million, and it’s estimated that in 2025, we’ll barely reach 21.7 million. That’s a 20% drop in just  five years. Meanwhile, domestic consumption of both white and yellow corn isn’t decreasing; on  the contrary, it's expected to hit 47.6 million tons in 2025. The math doesn’t add up. 

Although the Ministry of Agriculture claims that white corn self-sufficiency will be achieved in  2025 with 23.5 Mt, that goal sounds more aspirational than realistic. The production decline  responds to multiple factors: drought, lack of irrigation infrastructure, reduced public investment, and producers abandoning the crop due to its lack of profitability. The truth is that production is falling just when the country needs it most. 

Between Production and Imports: The Business Behind Corn 

This imbalance between supply and demand has made us dependent on imports. For 2025, it's  estimated that Mexico will import about 25.2 million tons of corn, including between 500,000  and 700,000 tons of white corn for human consumption, which hasn’t happened since 1989. In other words, for the first time in decades, we are running a deficit in the grain that shapes our basic diet: tortillas, tamales, atole, street snacks. 

And this imported grain — over 99% of it — comes from the United States. It’s mostly genetically modified yellow corn, primarily used for animal feed, starches, syrups, and other industrial  products. It doesn't go directly into tortillas, but it does indirectly influence their price: when yellow corn prices rise, production costs go up across the entire food chain. And with that, so does what we pay at the market, the tortilla shop, or the supermarket. 

The impact is already visible. In 2020, the average price per kilo of tortillas was MX$15.50 (US$0.83). By  December 2024, it had reached MX$23.10, and in some regions it's already close to MX$35. According to the National Tortilla Council, if no structural measures are taken, prices could increase by up to 40% in the coming months. It’s a direct blow to the wallets of millions of families who rely on this staple food every single day. 

In response, the federal government launched the National Corn-Tortilla Agreement, aiming to  reduce tortilla prices by up to 10% throughout the presidential term. The program includes direct  deliveries of white corn, financing for modernizing tortilla shops, and cutting out middlemen. 

However, key industry players say this goal is hard to meet: input costs keep rising, many tortilla  businesses operate informally, and international factors are beyond local control. 

Crisis or Turning Point? 

Beyond the worrying outlook, this situation raises a key question for the agri-food sector: Is it  possible to turn this crisis into an opportunity? From a business perspective, the scenario is  complex, yes, but it is also full of potential to rethink the entire model. External dependence is a weakness, but also a clear market signal: there’s demand — plenty of it — to be met. 

Mexico has land, talent, tradition, and potential to produce much more. But to make it happen,  we need serious investment in modernizing agriculture: climate-adapted seeds, irrigation  infrastructure, logistics innovation, and shorter, more profitable marketing chains. Initiatives that directly connect growers with processors — nixtamal mills, tortilla makers, food processors — could cut costs, guarantee fair prices, and improve traceability throughout the supply chain. 

Private capital can also play a key role: regional storage hubs, efficient warehousing, refrigerated  transport, apps that optimize direct sales, or traceability platforms could make a real difference.  But that only works if public policy creates the right conditions: access to credit, legal certainty,  incentives for regenerative practices, and fair tax systems for those who actually produce. 

Meanwhile, there’s an inevitable political front: trade. The USMCA panel ruled that Mexico  can’t restrict imported GMO corn without scientific evidence, forcing us to stay dependent on  that supply. At the same time, in February 2025, a constitutional reform was passed banning the  planting of GMO corn in Mexico. This creates tension in trade relations with the United States, and leaves  the country in a vulnerable position: we can’t grow GMO corn domestically, and we can’t stop importing it either. 

And then there’s the human side — never to be overlooked. Farmers in Sinaloa who can’t cover production costs. Tortilla makers in Jalisco buying corn at higher prices than they used to grow themselves. Families in Oaxaca cutting back on tortillas because they just can’t afford them. All  of this paints a real map of what it means to rely on external factors to feed a country that once  grew what it ate. 

Producing What We Eat Isn’t Nostalgia, It’s Strategy 

By now, it’s clear that self-sufficiency is not just an ideological slogan, it’s a strategic necessity.  Continuing to import nearly half the corn we consume — and for the first time, white corn as well — doesn’t just make us vulnerable to external shocks; it also represents billions in spending that could stay within our own economy, creating jobs and strengthening rural communities. 

Importing comes with a cost. An economic one, of course, but also social, productive, and  cultural. Every ton of corn that comes from abroad is an opportunity lost for Mexican fields.  Every peso paid to a US producer is a peso that doesn’t circulate in our agricultural regions. 

Every price hike in tortillas moves people one step further from their basic right to a dignified  diet. 

But there’s a way out. This moment could be a turning point. If the entire agri-food sector — farmers, industry, government, consumers — recognizes the value of producing what we eat, we can build a national strategy to regain ground. With vision, with technology, with clear rules, and with a narrative that recognizes that corn is not just a crop, it’s a national decision. 

Because yes, tortillas and corn are culture.  

But they’re also our economy, sovereignty, employment, and future.  

And if we don’t commit to growing it, someone else will reap the profits — and we’ll be left with the bill.